MONDAY
Overheard Jack on the phone to California where he's going next week for one of his regular foreign jaunts, to "learn the lessons from abroad" (ie: get a tan). He was on to the state government in Sacramento. "Hello... Jack McConnel
l... no, McConnell... of Scotland... Tony Blair's best mate... five minutes would be fine... that's all I'd need... just a quick photograph... tell him Terminator was my favourite film... I'll be back!!!!!... hello?... hello?"
TUESDAY
Headed along to the launch of Mike Russell's new book on how he's going to single-handedly rescue Scotland from itself. The old mucker was characteristically modest about the book. "I wouldn't want to talk it up too much," he told me. "But, put it this way, I expect in the future they will look back on this day and say that was the moment Scotland finally found its prophet." They're getting irritatingly cocky, those damn Nats, though.
WEDNESDAY
Boydy's taken the high jump! Apparently he rang up Jack last night and declared he'd had enough. That old moaner Lord McCluskey had duffed him up again in the papers and he decided that was that. Not bad timing from old Colin, what with Lockerbie coming back up soon. But Boydy says it's more to do with the fact that it's about time he started earning squillions in the private sector. Jack was livid because he wanted Boydy around when the Parliament's report on the McKie affair comes back so there's someone to blame. Then again, at least it means he can get Elish Angiolini into the job, as he's been wanting to do for ages. Elish apparently wanted to ditch the Lord Advocate title and instead be known as Nedbuster-in-chief. "I like it!" said Jack.
THURSDAY
Jack put in an extra session of kick-boxing with his personal trainer so his blood was up before he spoke to John Reid about the way those nasty Home Office chaps are roughing up our nice asylum seekers. "Now listen here, Reid," he spat. "This is a moral issue of the utmost importance. The future of some of the most needy people on the planet is at stake. I refer of course to our MSPs. You keep on removing these foreign types, and dozens of my gang are going to be kicked out next year." Reid's not for turning, however. "There are wider issues at stake here, Jack," he said. "If the Home Office doesn't act tough on this issue, how am I supposed to take on Brown next year?" Jack shrugged. "Aye, I suppose you're right."
FRIDAY
Elish's first proper day in the job. "Here are my priorities," she declared. "Kids who say they'll mind someone's car but then run off after taking the cash: boot camp. Youngsters who drop sweetie wrappers in the street: open prison. Drunks who sing 'Flower Of Scotland' out of tune after 11 o'clock at night on weekdays: compulsory singing lessons. Just you watch. I'll show 'em." I'm scared; what if she finds out about my lunchtime pints? This could be serious.
Things can only get better!
The full article contains 538 words and appears in Scotland On Sunday newspaper.
